


Two Worlds, One Family

by mainstreamelectricalparade



Series: Two Worlds, One Family [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Adopted Children, Deaf Peter Parker, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, Parent Tony Stark, Protective Siblings, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, adoption au, copious amounts of snuggles, like seriously is this even one of my fics if there aren't snuggles, sleepy adorable kids
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-11-29 06:31:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18219467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainstreamelectricalparade/pseuds/mainstreamelectricalparade
Summary: It wasn't exactly a secret that Tony Stark frequently visited a nearby children's home to hang out with the kids and, more often than not, snuggle a baby or two.It was only inevitable that two of those babies would end up stealing his heart.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> It's canon somewhere that Tony Stark loves going to orphanages and snuggling babies, and I found a post on Tumblr that mentioned a foster kids AU with Harley and deaf!Peter and those two things crashed together in my brain and created this.
> 
> [ aatticsaltt ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aatticsaltt) helped me come with a ton (and I mean a TON) of ideas for this AU, and I absolutely adore all of them and her, so I wanted to make sure I mentioned her here. She's got a really fun fic in progress, so go check that out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys have already seen this chapter if you read my Iron Dad Week stuff, but bear with me, ok, more is coming soon

It wasn't exactly a secret that Tony Stark frequently visited a nearby children's home to hang out with the kids and, more often than not, snuggle a baby or two.

He had been doing it for years, and he loved it. He knew the media liked to portray him as cold, heartless, and detached, but there was nothing he loved more than driving to that children's home in Queens and bringing something fun for the kids; books, toys, games, whatever. He had a list of things he either could tell they desperately needed, like new clothes when they started to outgrow the ones they had or they started falling apart, or things he had overheard the kids talking about that they wanted, but couldn't ask for because of budget.

Well, Tony Stark had no budget, and he was more than happy to play Santa Claus in April, just to see those kids light up like the 4th of July.

Tony's favorite part of his visits, however, was just spending time with the kids. They were full of hope and excitement, and they didn't care that he was famous, as long as he was willing to sit down on the floor with them and play, with LEGOS, Barbies, blocks, puzzles, or anything else the kids could find to make a game out of. He had played hopscotch on the sidewalk of a busy New York street more than once, and he knew for a fact that people had taken photos and written articles about that, and he couldn't care less. Especially since the publicity had gotten more than a few of those kids fostered or adopted.

After he had spent a sufficient amount of time with the older kids, Tony liked going upstairs to the nursery and holding some of the babies. There were so many crowded into one room, and there wasn't enough staff to give them quite as much attention as they needed, so Tony tried to get around to cuddling as many as he could in an afternoon, just so those precious little babies could get even a fraction of the love and attention they deserved.

A couple of babies came into the nursery a few days apart from each other sometime in early 2002, two boys, and the staff put both of them in one crib, because there was no room for them to each have their own. The next time Tony visited, he saw them huddled together, one of them with an arm flung across the other one's tummy, in an almost protective manner.

The attendant said their names were Harley and Peter. Plastic protected signs on the end of the crib indicated that Harley was nine months old, Peter six. That seemed odd, to Tony; Harley looked like a normal size, but Peter seemed far too small to be six months old.

“Does Peter have any health problems?” Tony asked the attendant.

She rolled her eyes. “I think the folks who dropped him off said he was premature. He's not sick, he's just a runt. Deaf, too, barely reacts to anything. Good thing, at that, because the other one kicks up a hell of a fuss whenever we get near him.”

Tony peered into the crib at the two boys. Harley stared back; Peter was asleep. “Hi, there,” he said to Harley. “I'm Tony. Looks like you've made a friend, in there. That's good.”

Harley kept staring at Tony. Tony was used to babies not blinking, otherwise he might be a little unnerved. Next to him, Peter stirred and started to blink his eyes open, yawning widely in an adorable puppy-like manner. Then he started to do an odd hand motion, cupping his hand and dragging it down his chest toward his belly. He did it a few times, looking directly at Tony, then seemed to realize Tony didn't know what he was doing. His face crumpled and he let out a pitiful whimper. Harley looked over at him and patted at Peter's tummy clumsily, like he was trying to comfort him.

Tony reached into the crib, watching Harley carefully for any negative reactions like the attendant had warned. He picked Peter up and held him to his chest. He knew Peter wouldn't be able to understand him if he spoke, but he thought that a gentle touch might be soothing.

Peter did the hand motion a few more times, almost half-heartedly, like he wasn't expecting anything to come of it. It was sort of heartbreaking, how resigned he already was to the fact that nobody knew what he needed.

Tony thought he remembered reading somewhere that babies could communicate in sign language even before they could talk, if their parents taught them how to sign the words for their basic needs. Maybe that's what Peter was doing. Tony watched Peter do it again, paying more attention this time.

“I think he wants something,” Tony said to the attendant.

She scoffed. “He never wants anything, he's impossible to look after, he never makes any indication that he might want something, and we have to guess.”

Tony shook his head. “I think he does try to tell you, and you just can't see it,” he insisted. “Look at him.”

She looked critically at the little baby in Tony's arms, still doing the hand motion. “What's he doing?”

“I think it's sign language,” Tony said.

She fixed him with an unimpressed look. “He's a baby.”

“Babies can use sign language,” Tony pointed out. “He might be hungry.” He rubbed Peter's tummy gently with two fingers. “Are you hungry, buddy?”

The attendant looked like she wanted to point out that Peter couldn't hear him, but she decided against it.

Peter looked up at Tony in reaction to the rubbing with big, sad brown eyes, and patted the fingers on his tummy with his whole, tiny hand. He did the motion again.

“Where do you keep the bottles and formula?” Tony asked. He didn't usually feed the babies when he visited; most of them were either already fed or could easily communicate when they needed to be, but Peter obviously couldn't. Tony was worried that he might end up becoming malnourished if the staff continued the way they were currently going about his care.

The attendant pointed to the side of the room that had two wall cabinets, a sink, and some empty counter space with three bottle warmers sitting on top of it. Tony went over to it, holding Peter securely against his chest, and started rummaging through the cupboards for the formula powder and a bottle. He followed the directions carefully, and after a few minutes he had successfully mixed and warmed a bottle, which he offered to Peter.

The little baby reached for the bottle with both hands, his eyes brightening, and opened his mouth. Tony guided the bottle in and let Peter hold onto it as he drank greedily. Tony looked over at the attendant, triumphant and smug. She shrugged passively and went to check on another baby that had started screaming.

Tony carried Peter back over to the crib where Harley was still being held prisoner. He looked down at Harley, who had sat up in his absence and started fiddling with a little stuffed bunny that had apparently been left in the crib. “Look, buddy, I figured out what your friend needed,” Tony said. He looked back at Peter, who was still sucking fervently on the bottle Tony had given him. “Hey, slow down, champ, or that's all going to come right back up,” he added, tilting the bottle down ever so slightly to attempt to slow Peter's drinking speed. Peter fussed a bit until he realized Tony wasn't trying to take the bottle away, then accepted the new angle and kept sucking. His eyes were half-lidded, like he was blissed out from finally being able to fill his belly.

Harley watched Peter with his wide-eyed stare, then looked up and Tony and offered him a small, half-toothy smile.

Tony's heart melted a little bit. (A lot.)

* * *

When Tony left the children's home that evening, he stopped at the book store and bought a copy of every book and video about ASL he could find.

 


	2. Take Strength From Those That Need You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony comes home from Afghanistan after three months of living hell. After a quick press conference, there's only one thing he wants to do.
> 
> Crying and cuddles ensue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all are so hyped! I love it! Enjoy the next chapter!

Tony got out of his car in front of the children's home, the sight of it achingly familiar and welcome. He stood right there on the street and just looked up at the brown brick townhouse for a minute, then pressed the lock button on his key fob and started for the steps.

Even before he reached the door, the sound of children playing and yelling in the background washed over him, and he felt his entire body relax.

Afghanistan had been hard on him, harder than he had admitted to Pepper, or Rhodey, or anyone. He had been gone for three months, and he was exhausted, but there were two people that he _had_ to see before he could go home; two six year old boys he had known since they were babies, who he loved to pieces.

Tony had just reached the door when he heard a shrill, almost ear-splitting _shriek_ from somewhere above him. He looked up to see a familiar mop of brown curls peeking over the edge of the fire escape off to Tony's left.

“Peter!” Tony yelped, shocked, first of all, by the sheer volume of the sound that had just come out of the usually very quiet little boy's mouth, and second of all by his precarious choice of places to sit, especially since he was so small that a slight breeze could theoretically blow him right off the fire escape.

Harley's head of blond hair appeared next to Peter, and he grinned a wide, missing-tooth grin. “Tony!” he yelled down. “You came back!”

“Of course I came ba- Just- You two get off that thing,” Tony said, on the verge of a nervous breakdown, “you're freaking me out.”

“Ok,” Harley called back, shrugging.

Tony expected the boys to climb back through the window into the house, but instead, Harley swung his legs over and started down the ladder of the fire escape.

“ _Harley_ , oh my god, that's _not_ what I meant,” Tony said, not looking forward to the first heart attack of his life.

“Catch,” Harley said, dangling precariously from the bottom rung of the ladder, just close enough to the ground that falling wouldn't break his neck, but it might break an arm or leg if he wasn't careful.

“Oh my god,” Tony muttered, running back down the steps and going to stand under the fire escape. He reached up and grabbed Harley around the middle, plucking him off the ladder like a really big apple, and lowering him safely to the ground. As soon as his feet were firmly planted, Harley turned right around and latched his arms around Tony's middle.

Peter was still peeking over the edge of the hole in the escape where the ladder descended. He looked concerned. He had always been much more timid than Harley, when it came to things like this; he couldn't do the zip line or the monkey bars at the playground without the security of someone holding on to him, and he took stairs one at a time even when he was excited, because the last time he didn't he ended up with a bloody nose and cried into Tony's neck for an hour. Of course, he technically only tripped because one of the other kids tripped him, but he was still afraid to go too fast.

After a minute of apparent contemplation, Peter stuck his bottom lip out in one of his famously adorable pouts (seriously, Tony was shocked that nobody had adopted this kid yet based on his pout alone, he was irresistibly cute), and held one hand over the edge of the fire escape to finger spell, since he couldn't sign properly.

“ _W-A-I-T._ ”

Tony offered a thumbs-up, and Peter smiled and disappeared from view, back through the window of the house.

“We thought you left forever without saying goodbye,” Harley said, his voice muffled into Tony's navel.

“Hey, no, how long have you known me?” Tony said. “I'd never do that, kid. I just got a little tied up.”

_Sort of literally_.

Harley pressed just a little closer. “You were tied up for a long time.”

Tony sighed and reached down to weave his fingers through Harley's perpetually tangled hair. “I really was. I'm sorry about that, kiddo.”

“Peter missed you.”

Tony cracked a small smile. “Just Peter, huh? You know, you're holding on pretty tight, there.”

Harley chose not to answer.

The front door of the home opened and Peter came down the steps, one at a time, clutching the railing with both hands. He looked over at Tony, maybe making sure he hadn't moved, and beamed at him when he saw he was still there.

“Tony!” Peter yelled, in his slightly halted, high-pitched voice that he almost never used.

Harley shuffled around so that Peter had room to join the hug, and Tony braced himself as Peter came running toward him at top speed, barreling into him so hard he stumbled back.

Tony brought a hand up to rest against the back of Peter's head as the little boy nuzzled his face into the fabric of Tony's shirt. After a moment, however, he realized with some alarm that Peter was crying, and moved it to rub his small shoulder soothingly.

Peter sniffled and pulled back from Tony just a bit, tilting his head back to look up at him. He lifted his arms and whined, “Up.”

Tony's heart felt like it was cracking in half as he took in the little boy's face, shining with fresh tears as he looked back at him pleadingly.

“Aw, baby,” Tony whispered, even though Peter couldn't hear him. Harley stepped back to give Peter more room, and Tony leaned down and plucked Peter up off the floor, lifting him into his arms swiftly and holding him close, glad that he had made the decision to remove his sling before getting out of the car. His arm was a little sore, but he wouldn't pass up the opportunity to hold Peter for _anything_.

It had been clear to Tony early on that Peter seemed to react more positively to touch than any other brand of comfort. The little boy was possibly the biggest lovebug he had ever met, always wanting to be as close to another human being as possible, especially Tony or Harley. Paired with his almost cherubic baby face and sweet, sensitive nature, Tony's heart ached every time Harley reported that yet another foster home or adoption had fallen through, just because the family couldn't see past Peter's disability.

Peter broke down as Tony lifted him up, sobbing loudly and pushing his tiny fingers into Tony's hair, like he was afraid he would let go if he didn't hold on, but Tony didn't plan to do that any time soon. He laced his own fingers through Peter's hair and held him as tight as he could, feeling tears soaking his neck and not caring in the slightest.

Peter stirred after a minute of being held close. Tony looked back at him, seeing in his big brown eyes that he was obviously searching Tony's face for... _something_. After a brief moment, his face crumpled and he let out another sob and choked, “ _Daddy_.”

Tony's throat closed as he registered the word that had just come out of Peter's mouth. He was almost surprised by how unsurprising it was that he _loved_ the way it sounded. He started crying, and he wasn't even embarrassed about it. “Baby,” he cooed, “sweetheart.” He leaned forward to pepper kisses all over Peter's tear-stained, flushed face, knowing his words were literally falling on deaf ears. “Don't cry, honey.” He wiped tears away with his thumb, and looked over at Harley.

Harley shuffled a little closer, reaching up to hold onto the hem of Tony's shirt, and Tony lowered himself into a crouch to open an arm to him. Harley tucked himself under it immediately and burrowed into Tony's shoulder, finally giving in to the urge and allowing himself to cry a little, too. Tony hushed him softly and started rocking slowly, keeping a firm grip on both his boys.

Harley leaned away after a moment and started fidgeting with his hands, looking at Tony nervously. It was clear from the look on his face that he wanted to say the same thing Peter had, or something along the lines, but he had never been quite as openly affectionate as the other boy, so he was obviously hesitating.

Tony pulled Harley back into the embrace, and planted a few kisses across his face, as well. Harley scrunched his nose up and giggled, hiding in the crook of Tony's neck once more, and he squeaked, so quietly that Tony almost didn't hear him, “Dad...”

_That's me_ , Tony thought. _That's me, god, why didn't I realize that sooner?_

Tony had missed these boys so much in Afghanistan, that it almost hurt more than the open heart surgery Yinsen had performed to put the arc reactor in his chest. _This_ was what he wanted to protect, shutting down his weapons manufacturing division. These boys, and their pure, innocent affection for each other and for Tony.

He knew what he had to do. Honestly, he should have done it years ago, he just hadn't thought it was fair to these boys who deserved nothing but the best, because Tony certainly wasn't that.

He maneuvered around the boys to reach into his pocket and grab his phone, quickly hitting speed dial on Pepper's number.

“ _Tony? Where did you go? You took off after the press conference before Happy could_ -”

“I'm adopting Harley and Peter,” Tony interrupted. Harley jerked back and gaped openly at him, but Tony kept his attention on the phone conversation, anxious to hear what Pepper would say.

There was a short pause, then Pepper exclaimed, “ _Finally_!”

Tony choked. “What-”

“ _You've been gushing about 'your boys' since the day you met them_ ,” Pepper said. “ _Yes, Tony, do it, bring your boys home, god, it's taken you long enough_.”

“Ok,” Tony said, because what else _could_ he say? He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket, and looked at Harley, who was staring at him with wide eyes. Tony smiled at him. “You ready, bud?”

Harley nodded vigorously, his blond hair flopping across his forehead, smiling brightly even as he was openly crying. Tony turned his attention back to Peter, nudging him gently until he leaned back enough for Tony to sign at him.

“ _Do you want to go home_?”

Just like Harley, Peter's eyes went wide and hopeful, but instead of nodding he just wailed and threw his arms around Tony's neck. “ _Daddy_ ,” he said again.

Tony thought that might just be his new favorite word to hear. He closed his eyes and leaned his cheek against the side of Peter's head. “That's me,” he murmured, reaching out blindly in Harley's direction; he felt the little boy shuffle closer and snuggle in alongside the other.

“What on earth is all the commotion out here?”

Tony looked up to see the matron coming out of the home, staring in confusion at the three of them huddled together in a big weepy mess on the sidewalk. He stood up carefully, still holding Peter, and took hold of Harley's hand, moving to stand in front of the matron, projecting as much “I Am Tony Stark” as he could muster.

“I'm adopting them,” he said firmly, leaving no room in his tone for discussion.

The matron gaped at him.

“Now, preferably,” he added, raising his eyebrows.

“Um. Ok.” The matron stepped back to invite Tony into the building. “Come on in, we can get the paperwork started.”

“Thank you,” Tony said, walking past her, boys in tow.

“I'm going to go grab the boys' files and some forms from the file room,” the matron said, “so you three just wait in my office and...” she glanced at Peter, who was still sobbing into Tony's neck. “Maybe try to calm down a bit.” She started down the hall, leaving them alone again.

Tony went into her office and sat down on the small couch that was positioned opposite the desk, tugging Harley down to sit next to him. He settled Peter in his lap, propped against his chest to give him a little breathing room, because he was worried that Peter might throw up if he kept crying the way he was. Harley leaned his head against Tony's arm, quieter than Tony had ever seen him.

Peter choked out a few more sobs, then wiggled in Tony's lap to face him, lifting his hands in preparation to sign. Tony watched attentively to see what he wanted to say.

“ _I thought you were going to leave forever before I could say I love you_ ,” was what Peter ended up signing, and Tony's heart seemed to break a million times over.

_Daddy._

_I love you._

Tony took Peter's little face in his hands and planted a very deliberate kiss in the middle of his forehead, then leaned back and spoke slowly so that Peter could understand him even without sign language, removing one hand from his face to wrap around Harley's shoulders.

“I love you so much, Peter,” Tony said seriously. “I love _both_ of you _so much_. I'm sorry it took me so long to do this.”

That was apparently too much for Harley to know how to deal with. He shuffled around until he had situated himself on half of Tony's lap, crying in earnest now. Peter scooted fully onto the other side to make room for him, and Tony had a lap full of the most precious little boys he could possibly hope for.

They were all crying and Tony was positive there was snot on his shirt, but it was good crying, and in that moment, he was pretty sure this was what heaven was like.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People in the comments: i wonder if/hope tony adopted them  
> Me: 👀


	3. A New Life Is Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adoption is finalized, and Tony helps his boys get ready to finally go home.

Three hours and a _lot_ of paperwork later, the matron put the last form in order and tucked them neatly into a file, which she slid across her desk to Tony.

“That's settled, then,” she said. “Congratulations, Mr. Stark.”

Tony's eyes burned, but he refused to start crying again, at least until he got the boys home. “Thank you,” he said earnestly.

“You can go up to the boys' room and help them pack, and then you can take them home,” she said, smiling warmly. “There should be some big garbage bags in the supply closet up there, that's what most of the kids pack into.”

“Great,” Tony said. He nudged Harley to get him to stand up. Peter had actually fallen asleep at some point, having worn himself out thoroughly, so Tony kept carrying him. It's not like he found it to be particularly bothersome, anyway.

Tony followed Harley up the stairs and grabbed a trash bag out of the supply closet, like the matron had suggested, but before he could grab another, Harley said, “We only need one, we don't got a lotta stuff.”

“Ok,” Tony said, handing Harley the one bag and closing the closet door. “One it is, then.”

He was going to _spoil these kids rotten_ , he already knew it.

Harley showed Tony to the room he and Peter slept in with a bunch of other boys; four bunk beds lined up on one wall, two large dressers on another, and a shallow closet built into a third for all eight kids to share. All the beds were slightly rumpled from use, and one of the top bunks had two pillows on it, where all the others just had one.

“You boys still sharing?” Tony asked, while Harley climbed up to that bunk and grabbed the few small stuffed animals scattered around the blankets, shoving them into the trash bag in his fist.

“Yeah,” Harley said. “Peter gets scared in the dark, because he can't see anything, and he already can't hear anything, so it kinda makes him feel like he's all alone, so I started making him climb up to my bed with me right away at lights out, since he would always end up coming up anyway, and after a while the social workers gave up trying to make us stop and put another kid in Peter's old bed.”

“Ok,” Tony said, storing this information away in a new mental file. “That's good to know.” Maybe they could see if a nightlight helped.

Harley jumped down from the top bunk and squeezed past Tony, heading to one of the dressers and rifling through a couple of the drawers, chucking more stuff into the bag, mostly clothes, as well as a scattering of other personal belongings.

“You almost done, then?” Tony asked, when it looked like Harley was starting to slow down.

“Almost,” Harley said. “I need to find Peter's blanket, he left it on the bed this morning, but it's not there anymore.”

Ah, yes, Peter's baby blanket. Apparently he couldn't sleep without it, and when he was feeling under the weather or just a little sad, Tony had seen him toting the blanket around the home, just for comfort, he assumed, since Peter rarely actually bundled himself up in it.

“Maybe he took it downstairs at some point, and you didn't notice?” Tony suggested.

Harley gave Tony a critical look, but agreed to go downstairs and check.

The good news was it didn't take long to locate Peter's blanket.

The bad news...

“HEY!” Harley yelled, balling his hands up into fists and marching over to the older (and bigger) boy that had Peter's blanket in a tight double grip. “That's Peter's!”

“It's a _baby_ blanket,” the older boy, Justin, Tony thought his name was, sneered, holding the blanket out of Harley's reach. “Is he a baby?”

“He needs it!” Harley said, trying to jump for the blanket. His fingers caught the edge, but Justin yanked it away. “ _Give it back! We're leaving, he needs it!_ ”

Justin scoffed. “As if, who would want _you two_? You're the losers that have been here your whole lives, and the shrimp is _deaf_. Nobody wants him, and you're just making things hard for yourself by trying to help him.”

Tony generally tried not to dislike any of the foster kids he came across, just in case they were acting a certain way because of rough previous experiences, but _that_ made his blood boil. “Hey,” he snapped, marching across the room and stopping in front of the boy. “What the hell did you just say?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Wow, Keener, you brought an _adult_ to help you? What, you can't even get a stupid blanket back by yourself? That's weak.”

At this point Tony was _very_ tempted to watch Harley try.

Harley lunged for the blanket again. “Give it back, _asshole_!”

“ _Harley_ ,” Tony said, surprised (and also a little proud, honestly, but he would save the praise for when they were no longer in ear shot of adults who would be much more horrified by it than he was).

“Make me,” Justin taunted.

Tony could tell Harley was ready and willing to do exactly that, but he figured that a good first lesson in responsible parenting would be stopping that from happening. He shifted his hold on Peter to one arm, and used the other arm to grab the back of Harley's shirt and tug him away from Justin. “ _Or_ , you can give the blanket back, and in exchange for your cooperation, I will _not_ tell the matron you were stealing from and bullying younger kids.”

In all honesty, he was fully planning on telling her whether the kid gave the blanket back willingly or not, but Justin didn't have to know that.

Justin scowled at Tony. “I'm not scared of her,” he said, crossing his arms.

 _How about the sweet suit I'm about to build, you scared of that_? Tony wanted to ask, but he refrained. _It's illegal to threaten a minor, it's illegal to threaten a minor_ -

He was getting tired of this. He let go of Harley's shirt and held his hand out. “Give me my kid's blanket,” he ordered. “Right now.”

Justin looked like he was about to say something snarky again, but he paused. “Your kid?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” Tony said, wiggling his hand impatiently. “My kid. Did you not hear Harley say they were packing to leave?”

Justin gave Harley a side look. “I thought he was lying,” he said slowly.

Tony let out a deep sigh. Now this kid was accusing Harley of being a liar, this was going great. Where were all the staff members? Weren't they supposed to prevent this kind of crap from happening in the first place?

“Give me the blanket, kid,” Tony said again, hopefully leaving no room in his tone for argument.

Justin kept staring at Harley. “You're leaving?” he asked dubiously. “Forever?”

Harley looked up at Tony. “Hopefully,” he said, his voice coming out a bit smaller than before.

“Definitely,” Tony said, nudging Harley's shoulder gently. He got a missing-tooth grin in response.

“And him, too?” Justin said, pointing to Peter, who was starting to stir and wake up from his power nap.

Harley nodded. “Yep,” he said, his excitement seeping into his voice. “We're gonna be brothers for real, now.”

Tony's chest flooded with warmth. These boys loved each other so much.

Peter, fully awake now, patted Tony's cheek clumsily. Tony turned to look at him, and he finger-spelled “ _H-O-M-E_ ”, his expression quizzical.

Tony pressed a kiss to Peter's cheek. “ _S-O-O-N_ ,” he spelled back, with his left hand since he was holding Peter on his right side.

Peter smiled happily, then looked around for Harley. His eyes widened in horror when he saw his beloved blanket in Justin's hands, and he turned to Tony, his face fearful.

“We'll get it, baby,” Tony promised, out loud since it would take too long to spell and his hands weren't free to sign. He looked back at Justin. “Give it,” he repeated insistently, holding his hand out once more.

Justin frowned, but reluctantly dropped the blanket into Tony's hand. “Fine,” he muttered, “not like I could have done anything with it, anyway.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled away.

Tony thought about calling him back and making him apologize to his boys, but all three of them were pretty anxious to get out of there, so he didn't. He handed Peter his blanket, and was rewarded with one of the little boy's sunniest smiles as he snuggled the soft material close to his chest.

Tony looked down at Harley, who looked relieved that Justin had relinquished the blanket. “Let's get out of here, huh, kiddo? You ready to go home?” he suggested, holding his hand out again, this time for Harley to take.

Harley gathered up the big trash bag full of his and Peter's stuff, and placed his hand in Tony's.

“Ready,” he said, his grin returning full-force.

* * *

Tony stood in the parking lot, trying to figure out how to install the car seat the home gave him for Peter in the back of his car. Harley had already graduated to a booster seat, but Peter was airing on the side of “too small”, and hadn't followed suit yet.

Harley had crawled into the back seat on the other side and was watching Tony, occasionally offering entirely unhelpful advice.

“Maybe try it there.”

“I did.”

“What about there?”

“Now you're just screwing with me.”

“What about-”

“Nope! I've got it,” Tony said, finally triumphant in his endeavors. He looked up at Harley. “Sit down and buckle up, kid, or I'm gonna come over there and do it for you.”

Harley stuck his tongue out at Tony and scrambled into his booster seat, buckling up maybe just to prove that he could.

Tony turned to Peter, who had been standing close to him obediently while he tried to figure out the car seat. He gestured to the open car door and signed, “ _Hop in_.”

Peter climbed up quickly, settling into the seat and carefully slipping his arms into the straps. He fumbled with the buckles for a minute, then looked up at Tony and held his palm flat facing up, with his other hand in a “thumbs up” on top of it.

 _Help_.

He followed this by rubbing a flat hand over his chest in circles.

 _Please_.

Tony smiled. He had taught Peter how to sign, but the kid had definitely picked up the politeness from somewhere else. Maybe he was just born that way. Tony reached into the car and helped Peter snap all the buckles into place, chucking a finger under the little boy's chin playfully before retreating and closing the car door. He started to move to the other side of the car so he could get in the driver's seat, but he heard a small tap and turned back to look at Peter through the window.

Peter was pressing a one-handed “I love you” sign to the surface of the window, trying to lean forward in his seat.

Tears pricked the corners of Tony's eyes. “Damn it,” he muttered, walking back and opening the back door again. He leaned back in to smother Peter's hopeful face with kisses once more, to the best of his ability from the awkward angle, causing an eruption of beautiful giggles that were just a bit too loud. He couldn't quite lean in far enough to do the same to Harley from this side, but he reached across the car with one arm and tweaked his nose, making him giggle and push his hand away.

“The two of you had better quit distracting me,” Tony said, pretending to be stern as he signed along with his words for Peter to understand. “I can't drive if you're being cute back here, so try to tone it down until we get home, all right?”

Harley's only response was a mischievous grin. Peter's was the exact _opposite_ of what Tony had just told him to do; he reached out and made grabby hands at Tony, obviously wanting him to come back for more hugs.

Tony brushed Peter's curls back off his face. “At home,” he repeated gently, “I promise. As much as you want.”

Peter nodded and settled back into his car seat, a satisfied smile on his face.

Tony withdrew from the back seat, closed the door, and moved around to the other side. He slid into the driver's seat, buckled his seat belt, and started the car.

He was taking his boys home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm dead, they ran a giveaway for Iron Dad Week participants and I got two little Funko Pop keychains of Iron Man and Iron Spider, they arrived like an hour ago and I adore them so much ;-; I named the Iron Man one "Teeny Tony" bc he's like an inch tall


	4. We're Family, All Of Us (And You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony takes the boys shopping, and they deal with some unexpected drama.

Tony was, admittedly, woefully unprepared, in terms of living space, to adopt two six year old boys. He had two guest rooms, and it wouldn't be too hard to convert one of them into a room for Harley and Peter, but if he had been a normal person he probably would have tried to throw one together _before_ adopting the kids, not after.

(Then again, he hadn't exactly _planned_ to adopt them when he did; it just happened, and he was _so glad_ it had. It had been a long time coming.)

Hey, at least this way the boys got to pick their own stuff, and you could pry Tony's wallet from his cold dead hands if it meant those kids had a room that they loved. He didn't even care if any of the stuff they wanted looked good together, if it made them happy he was going to buy it without hesitation.

And, bonus, it would be worlds of fun to watch Harley and Peter “ooh” and “ahh” at everything in the stores he took them to... as well as at the stores themselves.

“This is the biggest building ever!” Harley yelled, as he clambered out of the back seat and gaped at the two-story store in awe.

Tony looked at the building as he closed the door on Peter's side of the car, feeling a little hand slip into his almost immediately. “Harley, didn't your class go to the Empire State Building a while ago?”

Harley gave him the kind of unimpressed “you're so dumb” look that only a kid his age could muster. “That's a _tall_ building,” he explained, like it was the most obvious thing ever. “This is a _big_ building.” He stretched his arms out wide.

“Right, of course, my bad,” Tony deadpanned, reaching for Harley's hand with his free one. “Come on, kid, let's go find you two some stuff.”

* * *

 Tony had gotten a brief look at the clothes Harley and Peter had while he waited for Harley to pack everything up, and... Let's just say they both needed some new clothes. Very badly.

“All right, go nuts,” Tony said, gesturing to the acceptably expansive boys' clothing section of the department store. “Find some stuff you like.” He signed along for Peter's benefit, and set the boys loose on the clothing department. More or less. Harley went off on his own pretty much instantly, and Tony could sort of hear the distant sound of hangars and fabric being pushed around as he hunted for things that interested him. Peter stuck close to Tony, but he seemed just as interested in the freedom of choosing his own clothes.

Now, being six years old, and growing up wearing old worn-out hand-me-downs, of course, neither Harley nor Peter had a concept of what sorts of clothing styles and color combinations actually looked good together. It was absolutely hilarious, and Tony refused to help beyond finding everything in the right sizes.

In the dressing rooms, Harley tried on a bright red graphic t-shirt, and the pair of pants he chose to style it with were khaki green. He was so proud of himself that Tony added both items to the “keep” pile without saying a word about Harley's life choices.

Peter seemed to be a little more conscious of the fact that he had never chosen his own clothes before in his entire life, and asked Tony for advice after trying on every single item of clothing. Tony only asked him one question every time.

“Do you like it?”

Short pause, small nod.

“Let's get it, then.”

Or, alternatively, a longer pause, and a head shake.

“That's ok, we can put it back.”

The real fun started when they got to the toy department.

Harley's eyes lit up at the first toy aisle they turned into. He grabbed a couple of Nerf guns off the shelf and handed one to Peter. “Like those Westerns during movie nights,” he said and signed, to the best of his ability with the gun tucked under one arm.

Peter's eyes flicked between Harley and the plastic gun in his hands, and Tony could actually _see_ the recognition pass over his face.

Pretty sure he knew what Harley was planning (and trying not to be too confused about why they would play really old Western films during a _children's_ movie night, because Tony knew for a fact he used to think they were _incredibly_ boring), Tony stepped back to watch the boys play, and sure enough, they made good use of the long aisle length, each one pacing all the way down to an end.

For a minute, Tony wondered how the counting thing was going to work, with a deaf kid.

He wasn't confused for long.

Harley counted down from ten out loud on one end, and on the other end, Tony saw Peter fumbling the fingers of his right hand into a sign language countdown.

Peter's sign language counting was a few seconds too slow, and he ended up getting Nerfed in the shoulder by roughly three darts. Tony had a feeling that was Harley's plan the whole time. Then Peter turned around and pouted, and Harley was a good sport and let Peter shoot him once in the chest as payback. They both giggled through the entire ordeal, so Tony ended up putting the Nerf guns in the shopping cart.

They walked down every toy aisle, because the boys wanted to look at _everything_ , and Tony was more than happy to oblige. To his surprise (but not to his dismay), both of them were absolutely fascinated by the Barbies one aisle over from all the “violent boy toys” they had just been looking at, mostly passively aside from the Nerf guns. Peter especially got excited by a princess doll with long curly hair and dark skin, and kept making the signs for “hair” and “pretty”. Harley liked the dog-walker one that came with a “pooping” dog, because he thought it was really funny (it kind of was).

Tony bought both of them, and ended up throwing in an extra package that was just clothes, just in case.

Peter's favorite aisle by far, though, was the LEGO aisle. As soon as they turned into it, Peter made a strangled gasping noise and tugged on Tony's sleeve repeatedly until Tony looked at him, and a few more times after than for good measure.

“Yeah, bud?” Tony said, crouching down to sign.

Peter pointed excitedly at all the LEGOs lining the aisle. “ _We like these_!” he signed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Tony felt his chest go warm and fuzzy at Peter's use of “we”; he was, in fact, referring to himself and Tony, who had, a few times in the past, brought a set of LEGOs to the home and spent a good several hours sitting on the floor with Peter to help him put it together. He usually had to give Peter the LEGOs privately, because he was little and timid, and that made him an easy target for some of the bigger, meaner kids to take stuff from him when he had something cool enough... like LEGOs. It was kind of sad, but at the same time Tony loved the one-on-one time it allowed him and Peter to have. Harley would join them sometimes, but he preferred to build stuff without an instruction manual and didn't have the patience for the big, structured sets that Peter loved.

It was time very well spent, because in between taking turns doing the building steps, Peter was very chattery, especially as he learned more sign, and used his hands to talk to Tony about anything and everything he could think of. More often than not, they would start out sitting in their own spots on the floor, but Peter would end up gravitating closer until he inevitably crawled into Tony's lap and made himself comfortable.

Tony smiled at Peter and raked a hand through his soft curls. “That's right, buddy, we like these a lot,” he agreed, withdrawing his hand to keep signing. “Why don't you go pick a few for us?”

Peter beamed and ran to do exactly that.

* * *

Bags upon bags of toys and clothes and a few other random things the boys found, including a star-shaped nightlight that Tony picked up in the hopes of calming Peter's nighttime fears, packed into the car, they went off in search of a furniture store. It didn't take long to find one, and soon they were wandering the spacious aisles in search of anything that might come in handy in a kids' room.

Harley and Peter picked out matching beds pretty quickly, wood frames with shelving units built in that they both seemed excited by.

Peter was starting to get a little quiet, even by his standards, and trailed close behind Tony with a couple of Tony's fingers gripped tightly in his small hand. That was fine, Tony thought, maybe he was just getting tired; they had been wandering all across various stores for several hours, by now.

They had just turned into a wide walkway near the middle of the store in search of a dresser when it happened.

Peter's hand slipped out of Tony's, which Tony didn't notice right away because Harley had gotten distracted by a weirdly shaped lamp and was pointing out it's weirdness to him. When Tony _did_ notice, he turned around, worried that Peter would be nowhere in sight, but the little boy was just a few feet behind him, standing stock still in the middle of the aisle, big brown eyes watering, lower lip quivering.

Crying.

“What-” Alarmed, Tony took a couple large steps and knelt down in front of Peter, reaching up to cup his face gently in his hands. He looked at him with wide eyes, and the look on his sweet face broke Tony's heart.

Peter graduated from a lip quiver to his whole chin trembling, and he lifted his arms up wordlessly in a silent plea to be held, his face crumpling. Tony was quick to gather him into his arms, and as Peter pressed his face into his neck for the umpteenth time that day, a strangled wail escaped him. Tony had no way of knowing what was wrong unless Peter moved away to sign, so all he could do for now was hold him and let him cry, as awful as it made him feel not to be able to really help.

Across the aisle, a man who looked to be in his 30s turned to stare at Peter with a critical frown. “Don't you think he's a little old to be babied during a temper tantrum?” he asked loudly.

Tony raised his head to stare at him. “Excuse me?”

“Your kid is way too old to be throwing temper tantrums, you should be scolding him, not enabling him,” he said, in a tone that suggested he had no idea how wrong he was.

Tony fixed the man with a deadpan stare as he got to his feet, lifting Peter up when he whimpered at the movement. He moved to stand in front of the other man, irked to realize he was a little shorter and therefore possibly less intimidating than he hoped.

“I guess you don't think kids are allowed to have feelings when they've just been adopted,” he said slowly, his voice misleadingly level.

The other man immediately looked sheepish, then his eyes flicked across Tony's face and he blanched, probably realizing who he was talking to for the first time.

Tony refused to show him any mercy. “Look at this kid and tell me you don't think he deserves the world,” he said, tilting his head at the little boy whose tear-stained face was nestled in the crook of his neck, sniffling and whimpering. “I'll baby my kids if I want to, asshole.”

The man looked uncomfortable. _Good_.

Tony thought he heard Harley giggling behind him. The man heard, as well, and his eyes flicked behind Tony to look at him. He immediately looked offended. He pointed, probably at Harley. “Hey, man, control your rugrat!”

Tony turned around to look at Harley. The little boy was glaring at the man, the middle fingers of both hands sticking straight up.

Tony put Peter down, despite whimpers of protest, and nudged him in Harley's direction. He turned back to the man who had very stupidly decided to make the mistake of insulting his kids _twice_...

...And decked him.

“Screw you,” he growled, as the man was knocked backwards and fell hard on his back, groaning and holding his nose.

Tony hadn't exactly _intended_ to punch the guy, but he didn't really regret it. It had been a long day, the painkillers he had taken on the plane were wearing off, his kids were tired, Peter was upset for a reason that was as of yet undetermined, and this guy was grating on every remaining nerve he had.

“Excuse me, sir!” An employee jogged down the aisle toward them looking concerned, her hand hovering near the radio on her belt. “What happened over here?”

“He freaking punched me!” the man on the floor yelled indignantly.

“He was harassing my kids,” Tony said coolly, leaning down to pick Peter back up, because the little boy was tugging on his hand, sniffling miserably and looking like he was very much not happy about Tony putting him down.

The employee looked at Tony for a second, seemed to register who he was, gaped openly for a second, then turned and raised her eyebrows at the man on the floor. “I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir, harassment isn't tolerated in our store.”

“You're making _me_ leave?” the man asked, sitting up and glaring at her. “He _punched_ me!”

“We didn't see anything like that,” she said patiently, “and the security guys watching the camera feed would have told us if they had. Please leave before you cause an even bigger scene than you already have.”

The man did _not_ go quietly, and the poor employee ended up having to call security to collect him, which Tony tried not to find _too_ satisfying.

“Thank you,” he said to her, once the man's enraged swearing could no longer be heard.

“Don't mention it,” she said. “By the way, we totally did see you deck that guy, but, um.” She glanced at Harley and Peter. “My manager has a soft spot for adopted families, and he's also a pretty big fan of you, so we're letting you off the hook this time.”

“I appreciate it,” Tony said.

“Although I have no doubt that you would win the lawsuit it sounded like that guy wanted to file,” she added. “Have a nice day, sir, if you come to my register when you check out I'll have something fun for the boys. I think they deserve it.” She smiled at Harley, who smiled back hesitantly, before walking away, presumably to go back to her register.

Tony let out a breath. Now that that mess was over, he could turn his attention back to what had started all of it: finding out what was wrong with Peter.

“Come over here, Harley,” Tony said quietly, spotting the section of sofas and armchairs nearby and figuring that would be a comfortable spot to sort everything out. He picked a random chair and sat down with Peter in his lap. Harley wandered around, amusing himself by testing out various couches and poking around whatever else was close at hand.

It took a while to get Peter's attention, since the poor baby was hell-bent on hiding in Tony's neck for the rest of his life, but finally Tony got him to sit up and look at him, and he started signing, forgoing talking out loud because it wasn't really necessary, since it was just him and Peter, and talking out loud might just attract more unwanted attention.

“ _What's wrong, baby_?”

Peter sniffled, fidgeting with his hands for a minute instead of signing, then looked up at Tony with a look on his face somewhere between nervous and hopeful.

“ _You love me_?” he signed shyly.

Tony relaxed a little bit; this was a much easier problem than he was anticipating. He brushed Peter's hair off his face and nodded, then signed, “ _With all my heart_.”

Peter smiled for a moment, then his face crumpled again and he tucked himself back into Tony's neck. With one hand he spelled out, “ _F-A-M-I-L-Y_.”

Tony saw that Peter had turned his head so that he could actually see, rather than hiding completely, so he lifted the arm the hadn't automatically wrapped itself around Peter and spelled back, “ _F-A-M-I-L-Y_.”

Peter's fingers twisted into an “I love you” sign.

Tony took hold of Peter's hand and pressed a kiss to his little fingers in response. “Love you,” he murmured into Peter's curls, even though the words went unheard. “My baby. I love you so much.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to end the chapter where I did because that last bit was tooth-rottingly fluffy and I didn't want to ruin it by continuing.
> 
> ALSO I feel like I'm ignoring Harley a lot, but I'll write more with him soon, I swear, Peter's just a little more emotional and clingy than he is, and therefore requires a good amount of Tony's attention right now. Fun Harley stuff will come, I promise!!
> 
> Also also, I switched it up with the song lyric title a bit, this one's not from Tarzan. Name that film! I will give you heart emojis if you guess right.


	5. (I'll Be There) From This Day On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony brings his boys home.
> 
> It's been a long day.

“You boys ever been on a plane before?” Tony asked, already knowing the answer, as he drove down the freeway heading to the private airport his jet had landed in when he arrived in New York.

“We're going on a _plane_?” Harley said, and Tony could hear in his voice how surprised and excited he was.

“Well, how else were you expecting us to get to Malibu?” Tony said, his tone teasing.

“We're going to _Malibu_?”

“Harley, how many times have I said I live there?” Tony said in fond exasperation.

“Um. A lot,” Harley said sheepishly. “But sometimes I forget, 'cause you visit us so much.”

Tony did actually have a penthouse in Manhattan, as well, and he had briefly debated taking the boys there, first, but he wanted to take them _home_ , and Malibu was more his home than Manhattan.

“Does Malibu sound ok to you?” Tony asked, just to make sure.

“Uh huh.”

“Good.”

(The looks on the employees' faces at the furniture store when he asked them to ship everything across the country had been priceless. In his defense, he said there was no real rush. He did, of course, want to make sure the boys weren't sleeping in a guest room for the rest of their lives, but he wasn't going to demand overnight shipping on _that much_ furniture.)

* * *

 

Tony called Pepper again as they stood on the tarmac ready to board the jet.

“ _Tony, is everything going all right with the boys_?”

“Fine,” he said, watching the pilot patiently answer all of Harley's questions about the plane and letting Peter try on his jacket with the wings pinned to the chest. It was hilariously big on the little boy, but Peter smiled shyly at the pilot and turned around to show Tony, lifting his arms and flapping the sleeves. Tony grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. Turning back to his phone, he said, “Yeah, the boys are fine. Just wanted to let you know we're flying back tonight. California's a few hours earlier, so we shouldn't get in too late.”

“ _Oh, I thought you might stay over there for a while, ok_ ,” Pepper said. “ _Do you want me to meet you at the airport, or bring anything to the house, or...?_ ”

“No,” Tony said, “no, my car is still there, and we did some shopping in the city, we should be good for-” He remembered something and swore loudly before he could stop himself.

“ _What_?” Pepper asked, sounding concerned.

“Uh. I know you always hate when I ask you to, but would you mind doing a little grocery shopping?” he asked. “They'll probably be hungry when we get over there, and I've been gone for so long, I doubt I have anything to feed them.”

Pepper sighed, but even thorough the phone Tony could tell she wasn't annoyed. “ _Yes, Tony, I'll pick up some groceries. Just this once, though, you're a big boy, you can do it yourself_.”

“You're the best, Pep,” Tony said gratefully.

“ _I know_ ,” she replied easily. “ _Do they have any allergies? Or favorite foods? I don't really... know how to shop for kids._ ”

“Peter loves pasta,” Tony said immediately, aware that, if he hadn't known these kids for years, it might be a little strange that he knew that so readily. “And Harley will eat anything with chicken in it. No mushrooms. Peter will eat salad but not with cabbage... Harley hates seafood... I think they both like cereal. Milk. Apple juice. Orange juice, too, no pulp...”

He could hear the amusement in Pepper's voice as she spoke. “ _Ok, I will keep all of that in mind_ ,” she said. “ _Anything_ _you_ _want_?”

“Coffee. Lots of coffee.”

“ _Right. Ok, then, see you in a few hours, Tony. I'm looking forward to meeting your boys_.”

 _His boys_. Tony didn't think that would ever stop sounding amazing. “Yeah,” he murmured, watching the pilot with the patience of a saint trying to stop Harley from attempting to run under the plane and climb a wheel. “See you, Pep. And don't forget to use my card.”

“ _Do I ever?_ ” she teased. “ _Bye, Tony._ ”

The line clicked.

Tony pocketed his phone and approached the pilot, who was still doing his best to entertain the boys (Tony would have to give him a generous bonus for that in his next paycheck). “We ready for takeoff?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” the pilot replied swiftly. “Whenever you're ready.”

“Fantastic,” Tony said. He looked to where Harley was standing on tiptoe to inspect something on the bottom of the plane. “Harley, let's go,” he called. Harley dropped back on his feet and started making his way back. Tony repeated his words in sign for Peter, who immediately perked up and took the pilot's jacket off to give back. The pilot took it with a smile, ruffling Peter's hair, and Peter gave him another shy smile before going to Tony, reaching up to hold onto his hand.

The pilot led the way up the few stairs onto the plane. He headed to the cockpit, and Tony nudged Harley and Peter in the direction of the comfy plane seats with tables and even a small-ish TV.

(There was also a mini bar, but Tony chose not to point that out.)

“We get the whole plane to ourselves?” Harley asked, when Tony told him to pick a seat.

Tony grinned. “That's the whole point of a private plane, bud, it's _private_ ,” he said, letting Peter tug him along to sit with him at a table. Harley slid into one of the seats across from them.

“Private planes are cool,” Harley said decisively.

“I think they are,” Tony agreed. “That's why I have one. Put your seat belt on.”

Harley and Peter strapped themselves in (Peter required a quick tap to figure out he was supposed to), and then Harley looked out the window for a minute while the plane engines started running.

“Tony?” Harley said.

“Yeah, kiddo?”

“Are you rich?”

Tony tried not to laugh. “Yeah, a little bit,” he said. It was the understatement of the year, and he knew it.

Harley considered this for a minute. “Cool,” he said.

“Cool,” Tony echoed, smiling.

* * *

 

The boys entertained themselves for a while with some of the new toys they had picked out, but after a couple hours in the air it was getting close to 9pm New York time, and Tony knew the home was pretty strict about lights out by 8:30. It didn't surprise him at all when Peter nodded off against his arm, followed not long after by Harley, who pillowed his head in his arms on top of the table, a crayon falling out of his hand that Tony had to catch before it rolled away.

He felt really bad about waking them up when the plane landed, but even if he could have carried both of them out to the car at the same time, he still had to put in Harley's booster and re-install Peter's car seat, so they would have to wake up anyway.

He woke Peter up first, just because he knew from experience that the kid slept like the dead when given the chance. He brushed Peter's hair off his forehead and gently nudged his shoulder a few times until he stirred and blinked.

Tony wasn't sure what he was expecting, but what he got was a bleary-eyed baby burrowing under his arm and making a high-pitched whining sound in the back of his throat. It was only 8pm in California, but the boys were on New York time, so it felt like 11, and they were usually sound asleep by then.

“Aw, sweetheart, I know,” Tony whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of Peter's head, rubbing his shoulder sympathetically. “I'm sorry.” Peter couldn't hear him, but the shoulder rubbing seemed to help, anyway.

Harley woke up a little faster, and more willingly, than Peter, although his eyes were still half-lidded as Tony took both their hands and helped them down the large plane steps onto the tarmac below.

“Are we in the ocean?” Harley asked, because somewhere in his sleep-addled six year old brain, that question made sense.

“We're in Malibu, bud, that's right next to the ocean,” Tony said, waiting patiently as Harley gauged the distance between the last step and the pavement and jumped down, holding tightly to Tony's hand for balance and still wobbling a bit, just because he was tired. “Careful.”

“'M _super_ careful,” Harley said, even as he took one step that would have had him faceplanting into the tarmac, had Tony not still been holding his hand.

Tony was reminded somewhat of a tiny drunk college student, tottering around campus insisting they were completely sober when they were, in fact, not.

Re-installing the car seats turned out to be a struggle, because Peter, it turned out, was less of a tiny drunk person and more of a baby koala when he was tired, and made it his mission to stay as close to Tony as possible, even when Tony was halfway inside the car, swearing at and fumbling with straps and buckles in the dark. He wore a ferocious pout on his sleepy baby face.

At that point, if Tony thought any of them would benefit from sleeping in the car like homeless people, he would have climbed right into the back seat to snuggle. As it was, it would be better to get the boys (and himself) home, fed, and put to bed properly.

* * *

Pepper's car was in the driveway and lights were on in the house when they arrived, and Tony pulled up next to it and put his own car in park.

Harley had managed to stay awake for the fifteen minute drive. Peter was... conscious... but exceedingly droopy. Tony took pity on him and picked him up.

(He hadn't quite expected parenthood to be a workout, but considering he picked _these_ kids, it wasn't exactly surprising.)

The door was, predictably, unlocked, and he opened it and guided Harley in ahead of him.

“Pep, you here?” Tony called, shifting Peter in his arms as he kicked his shoes off.

“Yeah,” she called back, “kitchen.”

“Is that your girlfriend?” Harley asked sleepily. (It was a testament to how tired he was that he hadn't mentioned how big the house was, yet.)

Tony coughed. “No, no, that's my assistant,” he corrected. “Pepper, either you brought takeout or you lied when you said you can't cook, because something smells good,” he called, heading for the kitchen with Harley at his heels.

“I said I couldn't _bake_ ,” Pepper said as she came into view, standing behind the island stirring something on the stove. “My cooking is fine.”

“Pretty sure you said you couldn't cook,” Tony insisted, walking around to stand next to her and peer into the pot.

Pepper rolled her eyes, while somehow managing not to look away from the pot. “Whether I said it or not, I actually can, because I'm a competent adult, and have been feeding myself for a very long time.” She gave the pot one last stir and turned the heat off, finally looking at Tony. Her eyes landed on Peter, and her face softened.

“He's not asleep,” Tony assured her, “but you wouldn't wake him if he was.”

“This is Peter, then?” Pepper asked, smiling.

Tony nodded, just as he felt a small body press against the back of his leg. He looked down to see Harley peeking around him at Pepper. “And this is Harley,” he added.

Pepper crouched down to Harley's eye level. “It's nice to finally meet you, Harley,” she said. “I've heard a lot about you.” She held her hand out. “I'm Pepper.”

Harley shook her hand.

“Are you hungry?” Pepper asked. “Tony said you and Peter like pasta.” Harley's sleepy eyes brightened a bit, and Pepper smiled. “I'll take that as a yes,” she said. “I made chicken alfredo, does that sound good? No mushrooms.”

Harley grinned and nodded, and Pepper stood up straight, reaching for one of the empty bowls on the counter and scooping some pasta into it. She put the bowl on the island with a fork, and Harley climbed up onto a bar stool to dig in, just barely remembering to say “thank you”.

“You're welcome,” Pepper said, and Tony didn't miss the fact that she already sounded incredibly fond. She looked back at Peter in Tony's arms. “Are you sure he isn't asleep?”

Tony reached up with one hand to tilt Peter's head back and look at his face, and brown eyes squinted open to look back. “He's awake,” he said, unable to stop a small smile from spreading across his face. With one hand he did his best to sign “ _You hungry_?”

Peter stared at Tony's hand for a minute, like he was having trouble processing the signs, but then he blinked a few more times and nodded slowly.

Tony pointed at Pepper, then finger-spelled, “ _P-E-P-P-E-R_.” Peter turned to look at her, and waved shyly. She waved back with a smile, then turned back to the pasta to get a bowl for him.

Tony was a little concerned that Peter would either faceplant into his food or fall off the bar stool entirely, but as soon as Tony settled him onto it, Peter perked up a little bit and starting eating with the same enthusiasm, if not the same energy, as Harley, signing a quick “thank you” to Pepper. Tony had to interpret it for her, but then she smiled and asked how to sign “you're welcome”, and Peter's eyes lit up when she did it.

“Do you want to eat, Tony?” Pepper asked. “There's plenty.”

“Maybe,” Tony said. “Did you make coffee?”

She rolled her eyes. “I did, although everything in me is telling me not to let you have any, because you need to get some rest, too.” Tony waved a hand vaguely at her and went for the coffee pot. Pepper sighed. “Fine,” she said, “but you're going to have some pasta, too, if I have to force-feed you.”

“Yes, dear,” Tony said dryly, his face already half-buried in a mug of hot black coffee.

Harley had remained silent during their exchange, focused on eating, but now he spoke up. “Are you _sure_ she's not your girlfriend?”

Pepper's eyebrows rose, and Tony nearly choked on his coffee, gulping it down too soon and feeling it scald his throat.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Tony wheezed, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his mouth.

Harley didn't look convinced, but chose not to argue.

* * *

Pepper left after making good on her promise to shove some pasta down Tony's throat, and then it was just him and his boys again.

They both looked like they might fall asleep again at any second, now that they had eaten, so Tony went back to the car and grabbed as many of the bags of clothes as he could carry in one trip, desperately hoping that at least a couple pairs of the pajamas the boys had picked out were in one of them. They didn't even have to match, he just wanted to make sure the boys didn't go to bed in jeans.

To his relief, he found a pair of footie pajamas that Peter had taken a liking to, even though it was probably a little too warm, as well as a pajama top and a pair of bottoms for Harley that didn't go together in the slightest, but, again. Tony wasn't being picky. The clothes weren't washed, which was maybe not good, but it was almost midnight in New York and he didn't want to keep the boys up any longer waiting for a laundry cycle.

Pajamas on, teeth sort of brushed, and two very small six year olds tucked snugly into a king-sized guest bed that dwarfed them almost comically. Tony had never felt more domestic, and he didn't think he had ever felt better.

“Good night,” he said quietly, half kneeling on the bed to lean over and kiss each little boy's forehead, then carefully climbing off and going to the door to switch the light off. He started to leave the room, but a small noise of protest behind him made him turn around and look.

Peter had rolled onto his side and was staring at him, his eyes wide. When he was sure Tony was looking, he stretched his arm out to, once again, reach for Tony with grabby hands and pleading puppy eyes.

“ _S-T-A-Y_ ,” he spelled.

And, really, how could Tony say no?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TITLING IS HARD, JUST WANNA POINT THAT OUT
> 
> Also uhh how cute are the boys when they're sleepy? My heart felt all gooey the entire time I was writing this.


	6. Deep Inside Us, We're Not That Different At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet "Uncle Rhodey".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo sorry it's been so long since I updated! I've had massive writer's block IRT this fic, I don't know *why*, I've been totally fine doing Iron Dad role play stuff with my friend, but this has been a struggle.

Tony woke up with a start, in the beginning stages of a cold sweat. When he saw a clean, cream-colored ceiling and an overhead light that wasn't on, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief, closing his eyes again momentarily and draping an arm across them.

He was home.

He was safe.

He was...

...

Not in his room.

His eyes snapped open again as he remembered the events of the day before, and looked over to the rest of the bed, counting two heads of hair on the pillows beside him, one blond, one curly brown.

Somehow the sight was even more reassuring than the realization that he was no longer in a cave in the middle of the desert.

Tony looked to his other side at the clock on the nightstand. It wasn't even 9 in in the morning yet, but considering he had fallen asleep with the boys not long after 9pm, he was sort of amazed that he had slept for so long. He had been positive that his internal body clock would be all kinds of messed up, going from Afghanistan time to California time.

A phone rang in a different room, and Tony tried not to groan out loud, for fear of waking up Harley and Peter. He supposed he would have to get that, although he was sort of being aggressively cuddled by a baby octopus, so it took a minute to extract himself without waking the little guy up. He rolled Peter over carefully, encouraging his unconscious limbs to wrap around Harley, instead, then he climbed out of bed and went to find the ringing phone.

It was his cell phone, which he had left on the kitchen counter the night before, and it was flashing Rhodey's number.

“I thought you were mad at me,” Tony said when he answered, choosing to skip the “hello” as he hunted in the pantry for the coffee Pepper had brought.

“ _Hi to you, too_ ,” Rhodey said. “ _I called because I heard from Pepper that you finally got it together and brought your kids home_.”

“News travels fast,” Tony grumbled, dumping some coffee grounds into the coffee filter and turning the machine on.

“ _So, I get to meet my nephews soon, right_?”

The abruptness of Rhodey's question actually caught Tony severely off-guard, which he blamed on being tired.

“You huh?”

“ _Look, Tony, I might think you made a dumb decision with your announcement yesterday,_ ” Rhodey said patiently, “ _but I have been waiting for you to make things official and adopt the kids since the day you met them, and god damn it, I want to be an uncle, so when do I get to meet them_?”

“I- oh my god, honey bear, I haven't even had _coffee_ yet-” Tony complained.

“ _Let me make things easy for you, I'm outside, are the kids up yet_?”

“ _You're_ -”

Tony was about to say “no”, they were still asleep, but then he heard door hinges squeaking softly, and turned around in time to see Harley and Peter come around the corner from the hallway, blinking sleep out of their eyes.

“They just got up,” Tony said into the phone.

“ _Are they up for visitors? I brought presents_.”

“ _My god_ , Rhodey, let them wake up a little,” Tony said, exasperated.

Harley looked up at him quizzically, leading Peter into the kitchen by the hand, but Tony just held a hand up to signal that he should be quiet, and he nodded in understanding.

“ _Can you ask_?”

“Oh my god,” Tony muttered for a third time, dragging a hand across his face. “Fine, give me a minute.” He lowered the phone to his shoulder and looked at the boys. “How do you two feel about meeting your Uncle Rhodey?”

He saw Harley's mouth silently form the words “Uncle Rhodey”, then the little boy turned to Peter and repeated the question in sign, finger-spelling “R-O-D-E-Y” because Rhodey didn't have a name sign. (Tony snickered at the lack of “H”, but didn't correct it.)

Peter blinked a few times, then glanced at Tony, who smiled at him, and nodded.

Tony raised the phone to his ear again. “Yeah, come on in, Rhodey.” The front door opened immediately, and he jumped. “ _Jeez_ -”

Harley marched right over to the door, planting himself in front of Rhodey, who was toeing his shoes off next to Tony's. “Are you Mr. Rhodey?”

Rhodey looked down at Harley, and smiled, crouching down. He held his hand out for Harley to shake. “I'm _Uncle_ Rhodey, if you want,” he said.

Harley considered this. “You don't _look_ like Tony's brother.”

Rhodey barked out a laugh. “As good as, I'm afraid,” he said.

“ _Afraid_?” Tony repeated, grumbling. “What are you implying there?”

Harley shrugged and shook Rhodey's hand. “Ok. Uncle Rhodey, I guess.”

Rhodey's smile turned into an face-splitting grin.

Peter seemed to be experiencing the same confusion as Harley, though from a much safer distance, peeking out from behind Tony's leg. Harley turned to him and signed, “ _They're not brothers, but he's Uncle R-O-D-E-Y_.” (The misspelling was still funny.)

Peter tilted his head, then his face lit up and he signed, “ _They're brothers like we're brothers_!”

And, damn, if that didn't make Tony want to cry a little bit.

* * *

“Oh, hang on a minute, I left the presents in the car, let me go grab them,” Rhodey said, getting up from the couch where he had been sitting listening to Harley telling him about himself and Peter, with occasional input from Peter whenever he felt Harley was missing something. He ruffled Harley's hair as he passed on his way to the front door.

“Presents?” Harley repeated. “Is it someone's birthday?” He looked at Tony, his expression accusatory. “It's not your birthday yet, is it?” he demanded.

“No,” Tony said, shaking his head, “they're not for me.”

Harley frowned. “Then-” Realization dawned across his face as Rhodey came back with his arms full of gifts wrapped in brightly colored paper. There weren't a ton, he didn't go overboard, but he certainly hadn't stopped at one for each of the boys.

“They're for _us_?” Harley said, gaping at the presents now sitting on the coffee table in front of him and Peter. Peter didn't say or sign anything, but his eyes were as wide as saucers.

“They sure as hell aren't for Tony,” Rhodey said, snorting.

“You didn't have to get us anything,” Harley mumbled, “you don't even know us.”

Rhodey leaned forward again, patting Harley's knee. “Everything I know about you, I heard from Tony, and I can promise you it's all good. I know I didn't _have_ to get you anything, but I _wanted_ to, ok? You're gonna have to get used to being spoiled pretty quick, in this family, honestly, wait until you meet my _mother_.”

“Ok, ok, don't _scare_ them,” Tony grumbled. “Go ahead and start opening these up, see what Rhodey deems so important that it couldn't wait until _after breakfast_ , at least.”

Harley shrugged and reached over to grab two of the presents off the coffee table, one marked with his name, one with Peter's. He handed Peter's to him and started picking at the paper of his own.

Peter sat quietly and watched as Harley unwrapped a blue Transformer, then took his own present, slipped off the couch, and walked around the table to stand in front of Tony.

“ _What's up, buddy?_ ” Tony signed.

Peter simply held his arms out, a silent plea to be held. Tony didn't hesitate to lift him up onto his knee, and _that's_ when Peter started unwrapping his present, a LEGO firetruck set that made his eyes light up with excitement, leaning comfortably against Tony's chest.

“Peter likes LEGOs,” Harley said to Rhodey.

Rhodey smiled. “I know, Tony told me,” he said. “And he told me _you_ like Transformers.”

“I like the cartoons,” Harley said. “I've never played with one before. I've always wanted to, though.” He smiled back at Rhodey cautiously. “Thank you, Uncle Rhodey.”

Rhodey's smile turned into a broad grin. “You're welcome,” he said, ruffling Harley's hair. Harley ducked away from his hand, giggling.

The boys each opened a few more presents, some tailored to one of them specifically, some intended to be shared; Peter got a few kids' science books, on subjects like chemistry and astronomy and physics, and a teddy bear wearing a pilot outfit, because apparently Tony had once mentioned Peter's love of soft things to Rhodey. Harley got a skip ball and something called a Stomp Rocket that Tony _knew_ the kid was going to have _way_ too much fun with, judging by the look on his face when he realized what it was. They also got a couple things to share; a Marble Run set, Kerplunk, and Battleship.

“Thank you so much, Uncle Rhodey,” Harley said after the last present had been opened. “It was so nice of you to get us anything, this was even better than _Christmas_!”

Rhodey snickered. “I have a feeling that this will be _nothing_ compared to the first Christmas you spend here with Tony,” he said. “Or even your first birthdays, he's been threatening to spoil the two of you rotten since the first time he met you.”

Tony sighed and leaned back against the couch, rolling his eyes. Peter flopped back with him, because he was still propped against his chest, and he looked a little confused, because he couldn't hear the conversation, but he adjusted to the new position easily, snuggling right in. “I'm so glad you came to visit, honey bear,” he said sarcastically. “I love it when you blurt out every single thing I have ever told you in our private conversations.”

Harley giggled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being patient with me, I know you've all been DYING for a new chapter, so I hope it was worth the wait! I don't *love* this chapter, but I think it's fine. It's a bit of a filler, honestly, I've got some fun stuff coming up in the near future of this fic! Stay tuned!


	7. I Will Be Here, Don't You Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley and Peter get their very own bedroom, and Tony gives Peter some late-night reassurance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I uhh tend to focus on Tony and Peter a lot but Peter's a nervous, insecure kid, and tends to need a little more attention than Harley, and I have plenty of ideas for stuff like that. I do have a lot of ideas IRT Harley, too, which will be coming! I promise!

Tony was sure he had explained fairly clearly that he didn't expect immediate shipping on the boys' new furniture just because he was who he was, but nevertheless, it only took a couple days for everything to arrive. Two beds with lots of cubbies and storage space underneath, a large dresser, two desks, two desk chairs, a couple bean bag chairs, one of those rugs with roads printed on it, because a woman at the store saw him shopping with the boys and said they were really popular, and she was toting four kids along with her so she obviously knew more about that than he did.

Pepper and JARVIS kept the boys entertained in the living room while Tony set up their new room. Rhodey and Happy both came to help him so that it could be done in one afternoon. The night before, Harley and Peter had slept in the other guest room, because theirs had a fresh coat of paint drying, and Tony wanted the fumes to air out before they slept in there, not to mention there wasn't any furniture for them to sleep _on_ , anymore. They hadn't even seen the new wall color, so it would be a total room makeover reveal, and Tony would be lying if he said he wasn't kind of excited to see their faces.

After several hours of putting flat-pack furniture together and putting toys and books and pillows in places that seemed to make sense (that the boys would be free to change if they disagreed), Tony surveyed the room and deemed it ready.

“Go tell them we're ready,” he said to Rhodey and Happy. “I'm going to stay here so I can see their faces when they come in.”

Rhodey smiled and clapped Tony on the shoulder. “They're going to love it,” he said.

“They'd better, they picked all this stuff themselves,” Tony joked, shooing his friends out the door to go bring his kids ( _his kids!_ ) in.

The two men came back shortly, each holding the hand of one of the boys to guide them into the room. Harley and Peter had free hands held over their eyes so they didn't see anything too early, and those hands were removed when Rhodey and Happy tapped them on the shoulders.

Harley's jaw dropped and Peter's eyes went wide as they took in the sight of their new bedroom. Harley's mouth moved soundlessly, in a way that sort of looked like the word _wow_ , and then he beamed at Tony with his missing-tooth grin. Peter didn't say anything, not even with his hands, but Tony didn't miss the way his eyes darted around the room, trying to take everything in all at once.

When the boys finally turned their eyes on Tony, he smiled broadly at them and crouched down to their level, lifting his hands to sign as he spoke.

“Welcome home,” he said, two simple words that he knew meant the world to any kid who had grown up the way they had.

Harley's smile seemed to grow impossibly wider, and Peter's eyes filled with tears. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Tony had two arms full of the most precious boys he could have ever dreamed of calling his sons, and there was nothing he wanted more.

* * *

 

The boys' first night in their new room went pretty well. At least, it started that way.

Tony figured everything was going to be smooth sailing. The boys loved their room, the beds were worlds comfier than the bunks at the home, and they were already comfortable sleeping in this room when it was a guest room, so it wasn't a drastic location change.

Tony tucked them in at 8:30, as usual, since that was the bedtime they were used to from living at the children's home, each in their own beds catty-corner to each other in the corner closest to the window. A nightlight glowed softly, in a spot where Peter could see it perfectly when he was laying in bed, so that he didn't have to be scared of the dark. The window spanned most of the length of the wall, hovering a few feet above the floor, and let in plenty of natural light from the sun during the day, and the stars and moon at night, so that helped Peter's fear, as well.

Everything was... admittedly not _as_ smooth as Tony had hoped.

After he tucked them in and they all said good night, Tony went down to the lab to work on his Mark II suit, which he was keeping a secret from pretty much everyone except JARVIS. It was still in design stages, with a couple prototypes for gauntlets and boots laying around the workshop. He worked in silence (objectively speaking, since he was still playing music) for a couple hours, and then JARVIS spoke up for something other than reading out stats and taking notes, and occasionally just replying whenever Tony rambled.

“ _Sir, Peter is standing outside your bedroom door. He appears to be upset, although hesitant to enter. Since he cannot hear, I have no way of informing him that you are not there._ ”

Tony dropped his tools the second JARVIS said Peter was upset, taking the stairs up to the main part of the house two at a time. He found Peter where JARVIS said he would be, outside Tony's bedroom door, his blanket tucked under one arm and over his shoulder, his other hand hovering near the doorknob, but not touching it. He sniffled and whimpered periodically, and the sound made Tony's heart squeeze.

Tony knew Peter couldn't hear him coming, and he wished he could think of a good way to let him know he was there without startling him, but he wasn't sure there was one, and Peter clearly needed comfort as quickly as possible. He moved to Peter's side and knelt down next to him, a hand resting lightly on his thin shoulder.

Peter jumped minutely, turning watery, nervous brown eyes on Tony that widened when they landed on him. His lower lip quivered and he abruptly burst into tears, rubbing his fist over his chest in circles over and over. _Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry_.

Tony frowned in concern, reaching under Peter's arms and lifting him up off the floor into a hug immediately, supporting him with one arm and lacing his fingers through Peter's sleep-tousled curls. He nudged his bedroom door open and went inside, easing it shut behind him and making a beeline to sit on the edge of the bed, holding Peter securely in his lap.

Rocking gently, Tony let Peter burrow into his neck as he looked up at the ceiling. “JARVIS?”

“ _I believe he had a nightmare, sir_ ,” was the simple explanation.

Tony cooed softly, tightening his hold on Peter, then his brow furrowed. “Why is he apologizing?”

“ _That may be a question best answered by Peter himself, sir_.”

Peter was obviously in no state presently to do that, so Tony contented himself with simply holding him until he calmed down.

Finally Peter gave a mighty sniffle and leaned away from Tony as far as the arms wrapped around him would allow (not that far), lifting up his hands and sadly signing, “ _Sorry, sir_.”

Sir?

Harley and Peter had called Tony several things over the course of the last six years, but _sir_ had never been on the list.

Tony scooted back so that he was sitting cross-legged on the bed, lifting Peter off his lap and setting him against the pillows directly in front of him so he could reply in sign. “ _Why are you sorry?_ ”

“ _For being an annoying baby._ ”

Tony shook his head immediately. “ _You're not an annoying baby. Were you scared?_ ”

Peter hesitated, but nodded slowly, anxiety written across every inch of his face. “ _Sorry_.”

“ _You don't have to be sorry for being scared._ ”

Peter nodded again, more insistently. “ _Sorry for bothering you_.”

“ _You're not bothering me_ ,” Tony promised. “ _What scared you?_ ”

Peter blinked up at Tony for a minute, then ducked his head, sniffling miserably. Tony reached out and chucked a finger gently under Peter's chin, and waited patiently for him to look up. “ _Peter_.”

“ _I had a bad dream_ ,” Peter finally admitted, without looking at Tony.

“ _About what?_ ”

Peter's face crumpled, and he weakly signed, “ _You sent me back. Because I'm annoying. And dumb._ ”

“ _I would never do that_ ,” Tony signed vehemently. “ _Never, baby._ ”

Peter paused, his eyes fixed on Tony's hands, even after they dropped into his lap. “ _Baby?_ ”

Tony smiled at the hesitant hope in Peter's wide, watery eyes, and nodded. “ _You and Harley are my babies, Peter. You always have been. I'm not giving you back, ever. You're here to stay._ ”

Peter's lip wobbled and he lifted his arms in Tony's direction half-heartedly. “Tony,” he whimpered out loud, the word halted and full of emotion. “ _Daddy_.”

Without hesitation, Tony reached for Peter and pulled him back into his lap, allowing him to snuggle in as close as he wanted. Peter had gotten the verbal reassurance he needed, now it was time for the physical reassurance he so desperately wanted.

Peter hunkered down in Tony's arms, his head resting heavily over Tony's chest, right next to the arc reactor that glowed softly through Tony's t-shirt. Peter gingerly lifted a hand and traced the outline of it with one finger. With the same hand, he finger-spelled “ _W-H-A-T?_ ”

Tony hesitated. He didn't want to keep any secrets from the boys, but this was kind of a scary thing to tell two six year olds, and Peter looked like he was already starting to nod off in Tony's arms. “ _L-A-T-E-R_ ,” he spelled back. “ _P-R-O-M-I-S-E_.”

Peter seemed satisfied with that, nodding a couple times as his eyes slipped shut. He barely moved for a while, to the point that Tony thought he must have fallen asleep, but then his little hand lifted again, and spelled, “ _L-O-V-E. D-A-D-D-Y._ ”

Tony's chest flooded with warmth at the simple, sleepy declaration. Peter's eyes were still closed, so he couldn't spell anything back, but he pressed a kiss to the top of Peter's head, then took his little hand and pressed another to his fingers. Peter smiled shyly, turning to bury his face in Tony's shoulder.

“Love you, baby,” Tony whispered, even though Peter couldn't hear him or see his lips moving. “So much.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always feel bad for putting such a long wait in between each new chapter, but stuff always happens, and I get off-track. But!!! Fun news!!! I have a dog!!! I've been posting pictures occasionally on my Tumblr, @riseuplikeglitterandgold, so if you want to see the most ridiculous golden retriever ever, head on over there. She's really cute!! Her name is Yvonne. She's going to be a service dog to help me with my anxiety, but she's still in training, right now.


	8. Where There's Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finally tells the boys what happened to him in Afghanistan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a short chapter, in comparison, but I didn't really think there was anything else I could add to the conversation, and I didn't want this chapter to be anything EXCEPT the conversation, so I cut it a little short. I hope you don't mind! We're about to get into some fun stuff, anyway, so look forward to that!

“Peter said you promised to tell us what happened,” Harley said, rather bluntly, as Tony was tucking the boys into bed one night, not long after Tony's talk with Peter.

Tony's hands stilled where they were pulling Harley's blankets up to his chin. “What happened?” he repeated.

“Yeah.” Harley wiggled a hand free of his blankets and reached up to gently touch the blue light peeking through Tony's t-shirt. “When you got this.”

Tony hesitated. “Bedtime is a really bad time to ask about that,” he pointed out. “You're supposed to be going to sleep.”

“Please, Tony?” Harley said, turning on his best puppy eyes. “We really want to know, and you _promised_.”

Tony sighed. “I did promise, didn't I?” Harley nodded vigorously. Tony glanced at the clock, which read 8:25pm, aka _bedtime_. “It's late,” he tried. Harley frowned at him. He was six, so his glare wasn't _that_ effective, but Tony got the point. “Fine, alright? _Fine_ , I guess it's story time.”

“ _Yes!_ ” Harley cheered, scrambling to sit up. In the other bed, Peter was propped up on one elbow, looking at them curiously.

“ _W-H-A-T?_ ” he spelled.

Tony reached over and lifted Peter out of his bed to sit him down next to Harley. “Story time,” he repeated, signing along. “I did promise.”

Peter's eyes drifted down to the glowing blue circle on Tony's chest, and his eyes widened. He looked back up, clearly bracing himself for something big.

“We watched the news,” Harley said before Tony could even think of how to begin. “You went to Af... Afgoon-”

“Afghanistan,” Tony supplied softly.

“Afghanistan,” Harley repeated, nodding. “For work. And you disappeared. They talked about it a lot while you were gone, but they never had anything new to say. And then all of a sudden you came back, and said you weren't going to make weapons anymore.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “No more weapons.” He hesitated. “I learned that some pretty bad people have been buying my weapons, probably illegally, and they've been using them to hurt good people, just because they can.”

Peter's eyes went wide at that, and he looked unbearably sad. He crawled forward into Tony's lap, which would make it a little harder for Tony to sign along as he talked, but he wasn't going to deny Peter or himself the comfort.

“Why did you disappear?” Harley asked, his eyes wide as well. “Was it the bad people?”

Tony nodded. “They wanted me to build weapons for them,” he said.

“But you're not bad!” Harley said, horrified.

“I try not to be,” Tony said softly.

“How did you come back? Did they let you go?”

Tony winced. “Well, no, not exactly.”

“Did someone rescue you, like in a movie?”

Tony shook his head.

Harley sat back on his heels. “Then _how?_ ”

“There was another man there,” Tony said, a little sadly, remembering Yinsen telling him not to waste his life, as he laid dying on the cave floor. “He helped me find a way to escape.”

Peter tugged on Tony's sleeve. “ _Did he escape, too?_ ”

Tony shook his head, frowning. “He died,” he whispered. Peter's face fell, and he curled closer to Tony. Harley looked sad, too. “I tried to help him, so that he could go back to his family, too, but... I guess they were waiting for him.”

“ _In heaven?_ ”

Tony nodded, leaning his cheek against the top of Peter's head. “In heaven,” he repeated.

“ _At least he's happy, now,_ ” Peter signed. “ _He's with people he loves._ ”

“Yeah,” Harley agreed, nodding along. “And... you're happy too, right? With us?”

Tony smiled and pulled Harley over to sit closer to him and Peter. “I'm really happy,” he said.

Harley smiled and leaned into Tony for a minute, then he sat up suddenly, like he remembered something. “So how did you get that?” he asked, pointing to Tony's arc reactor.

Peter sat up a little more when Harley asked; he obviously really wanted to know, too.

Tony sighed slightly, hesitating as he tried to think of a way to say it that wasn't too scary for the two six year olds. “I got hurt,” he admitted. “Pretty bad. The other man who was there saved my life. He put a really powerful magnet in my chest, because there's some tiny little pieces of metal in there that could hurt me.”

“That doesn't look like a magnet,” Harley pointed out, although his eyes grew wider the more Tony talked.

“This is called an arc reactor,” Tony said, tapping the middle of the blue light and spelling the name out for Peter. “There's a really big one in the basement of my company, but it's kind of too big to do anything with. This little one is just the right size to provide power for a super strong magnet that keeps the metal away from anything in my chest that it could hurt.”

Peter turned big brown eyes on the arc reactor, looking at it with awe for a minute before leaning forward and timidly pressing a kiss to the middle of the light. Tony's eyes and throat burned a little as he watched him. “ _I love it,_ ” he signed decisively.

Tony supposed he could learn to love it, too.

 


	9. Danger's No Stranger Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obadiah pays Tony a late-night visit.
> 
> Unfortunately, Tony's not the only one who's awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the one hand, I stayed up way too late writing last night. On the other hand, I added almost three pages on to my previous two and a half, and I'm really happy with this chapter. Enjoy!

Late one night, Tony was sitting on the couch, about to see if there was any garbage TV on that he could kill an hour or two watching. The boys had been in bed for a couple hours already, but Tony wasn't tired, hence the garbage TV. Before he could, however, Pepper called, a few hours after he asked her to hack into the SI computers for him. He picked it up to answer, but before he could say a word, his entire body froze abruptly; he couldn't move an inch in any direction, no matter how hard he tried.

Tony was horrified when he heard Obadiah's silky crooning voice behind him, and even more when he saw the paralyzer in his partner's hand.

Obadiah ordered the hit on Tony.

Obadiah ordered the Ten Rings to kill him.

Obadiah sold weapons to terrorists.

Obadiah...

 _Was removing the arc reactor from Tony's chest_.

To make matters worse, as Obadiah was spewing a load of bull about Tony's Ninth Symphony, and golden eggs, Peter rounded the corner into the living room, rubbing his eyes sleepily, his baby blanket tucked into one arm.

“Daddy,” Peter mumbled, before he lifted his gaze from the ground to see Obadiah standing there, freezing as he was putting the arc reactor into the case he had brought along with him.

Obadiah turned back to Tony with a sinister grin on his face. “So _that's_ where you disappeared to after the press conference,” he said, and Tony already didn't trust a single word he was saying, but this tone he had suddenly taken on made him trust the man even less. “You should have told me you had become a father, I would have liked to meet the child.”

_Children. Harley is still in their room. Harley is safe._

_Peter's not safe._

_Oh god._

_**Peter's not safe.** _

Obadiah looked back at Peter and pointed at him; Peter froze, probably terrified of the inevitable confrontation. “What's your name, child?”

Peter, unable to hear the question, looked quizzically at Obadiah. The man rolled his eyes and repeated, louder, “ _What is your name?_ ”

Peter still didn't answer, looking to Tony for help, but then his eyes fell on the hole in Tony's chest, and he let out a warbled cry of fright. “ _Daddy!_ ” he repeated, louder and more urgently this time, running to Tony and climbing up on the couch next to him. “Where? Where?” His little hands patted frantically around the empty housing chamber, before turning back to Obadiah and seeing the reactor tucked into the case in his hand. “No! Daddy's! _No!_ ”

Obadiah wrinkled his nose at Peter. “Why are you talking like that?” he snapped. “Speak normally, child, and tell me your name, you're being very rude.”

 _He can't help it. He's deaf, he can't help it, he can't hear **himself** , much less **you**._ Tony wanted to scream it, to shake Obadiah until it was burned into the back of his eyelids.

“ _Daddy's!_ ” Peter repeated, climbing off the couch and trying to reach the case, even when Obadiah held it over his head. “No! Give back!”

“Stop that, you little brat,” Obadiah growled, trying to push Peter away and practically slapping him across the face, which made Tony see red and strain every muscle in his body trying to break free of the paralysis to lunge across the room and strangle Obadiah with his bare hands for laying a finger on his kid, especially when Peter whimpered. Eventually Obadiah gave up trying to push Peter away, reaching down and grabbing him so tightly around the arm that Peter whimpered again.

“Well, Tony, since the boy is apparently so protective of this-” Obadiah lifted the case; Peter made another grab for it, but missed, “-I'll take him with me so he can keep an eye on it, shall I?”

_No. No, don't._

Tony couldn't actually say that, though, because of the god damn paralysis, so he just had to watch helplessly as Obadiah tightened his vice grip on Peter's arm and started pulling him away from Tony. As soon as Peter realized what was happening, he started panicking even more, crying and fighting fruitlessly against Obadiah. “No! No! Daddy!”

“Stop whining,” Obadiah barked, because he clearly still hadn't realized that Peter couldn't hear a word he was saying. “Oh, and Tony...” He paused halfway to the door. “Too bad you had to involve Pepper in this. I would have preferred that she lived.”

Tony couldn't move even a little bit until long after the door was closed, which meant he had to listen to Peter screaming and crying for Tony to help him, for Obadiah to give the arc reactor back, to _please not let his daddy die, because Peter needs him_.

As soon as Tony could twitch his fingers again, he put every ounce of strength he had into doing his level best to get off the couch and make his way across the room. He stumbled into the elevator, because by this point he could move, but the cardiac arrest from the _lack of god damn arc reactor_ was starting to take hold on him, and instead of paralysis, he had _that_ to fight, instead. He made it down to the lab, practically fell out of the elevator, and started crawling across the floor to reach his old reactor, displayed in a classy glass case, courtesy of Pepper, surrounded by the words “ _Proof That Tony Stark Has A Heart_.” A photo of Peter and Harley beaming up at the camera, Harley poking his tongue through the double-wide gap from two missing teeth, was propped against the case.

Tony tried to reach the case, but with his current lack of motor control, he ended up pushing it away from himself, and then he fell over, the strength draining from his entire body.

He was going to die.

* * *

 

“Tony? _Tony!_ ”

Harley woke up to the sound of someone running through the house, calling for Tony over and over. He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes, and realized Peter wasn't in his bed. He frowned and detangled himself from his blankets, crawling out of bed and going to see where everyone was.

Instead of Tony and Peter, Harley found Rhodey in the living room, looking around with a worried expression on his face. “Uncle Rhodey?” Harley asked, causing Rhodey to turn sharply, startled.

“Harley!” Rhodey said, crossing the room to kneel down in front of the little boy. “Are you ok?”

Harley nodded, confused. “M'okay,” he said, still a little sleepy. “Do you know where Tony and Peter are?”

Rhodey seemed to freeze, something like panic flitting across his face before he rearranged his features into something calmer. “Peter's not in your room?” he asked.

Harley shook his head. “I woke up when you were calling for Tony, and Peter wasn't there,” he explained. “I figured he was with Tony. He has bad dreams sometimes, and goes to sleep in Tony's room.”

Rhodey got up and headed down the hall. Harley followed him, and watched as he opened the door to Tony's room and peered inside. When he leaned away from the door, his face was grim.

“They're not there,” he muttered, mostly to himself, and started moving again, back out to the living room, and down the stairs into the workshop. “ _Tony!_ ”

If Rhodey was worried, something bad was probably happening. Harley ran after him, taking the workshop stairs two at a time, and he got there in time to see Rhodey rolling Tony over onto his back. Fear seized him for a moment, before Tony groaned and sat up, looking at Rhodey a little blearily before snapping out of whatever daze he was in and grabbing the front of his friend's shirt.

“He's got Peter,” was the first thing out of Tony's mouth. Harley didn't know who Tony was talking about, but it sounded _really bad_. “He's got Peter, and... Pepper, where's Pepper? Does he-”

“Pepper's with five agents, they're about to arrest Obadiah,” Rhodey explained, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean, _he's got Peter_?”

“I mean _he's got him_ ,” Tony snapped, getting to his feet a little clumsily. “Come on, those agents aren't going to be enough-” he stopped in his tracks on his way to a corner of the workshop, and swore vehemently. “ _Harley_ , where's Harley?”

“I'm here,” Harley called, his voice a little small. “Who has Peter? Tony, what's going on?”

Tony swore again, softly this time, turning back and going to Harley, kneeling down in front of him. “Hey, I need you to stay here, ok? Peter's in trouble, I have to go get him.”

“ _Tony_ ,” Harley said pleadingly. He hesitated, and then admitted, “I'm scared.”

Tony's face softened, and he leaned up to kiss Harley's forehead. “Me, too,” he said quietly. “I really need you to stay here, though.”

“But-”

“Harley, please,” Tony insisted.

“But _Peter_ -”

“I know, bud, I know, I'm going to go get him, everything is going to be ok. _Please_ stay here, so I know you're safe.”

The look in Tony's eyes made Harley realize there was no point in arguing, so he slumped his shoulders in defeat and nodded. “Ok.”

“Thank you,” Tony said, visibly relieved. He kissed Harley's forehead again, and pulled him into a tight, too-quick hug, before getting up and jogging back to Rhodey.

Harley was starting to feel sick the longer he stood there and watched, so he tore his eyes away from his dad and ran back up the stairs. He managed not to cry until he was safely within the privacy of Tony's bedroom, curled up in the middle of the big bed with a pillow clutched to his chest.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And in other news I was watching Friends last night and one of the recurring boyfriends looked familiar (Pete from season three) and I couldn't quite place it so I looked him up and realized he's Happy and got really excited


	10. I Will Protect You From All Around You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harley's scared. Peter's scared. Tony is just mad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just posted a chapter literally yesterday, but I wrote this one all in one day, which I, personally, am super impressed by because I took two naps and left the house for two hours, and I still ended up with seven pages that I really like.

“JARVIS?” Harley asked timidly, sitting up in Tony's bed after what seemed like an eternity of crying. He had never really spoken to the AI before, he had just seen and heard Tony do it.

“ _Yes, Harley?_ ” JARVIS asked gently.

“Um...” Harley bit his lip, hugging the pillow a little tighter. “Do you know what's happening? With Tony and Peter?”

JARVIS was quiet for a moment, which made Harley worry that he didn't, but then he said, “ _Tony is wearing a suit of armor of his own invention, which I have full access to. I can monitor his vitals, and log any injuries he may receive while he is in it. I unfortunately do not know where Peter is, or how he is physically._ ”

Harley frowned, looking at his bare feet half-tucked under the big fluffy covers of the bed. “Can you... Can you tell me? About Tony?”

JARVIS seemed to hesitate. “ _I am not sure you will want to know everything,_ ” he said slowly.

“Please,” Harley begged, his voice cracking. “I just... I just wanna know he's gonna come back.”

“ _I can give you regular updates about his vitals and injuries, but I think he would prefer if I did not give you a... play-by-play, so to speak._ ”

“Can you?” Harley asked hopefully. “I just really wanna know. I can't...” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I don't wanna go back to New York.”

Instead of a normal reply, JARVIS quietly said, “ _Tony's vitals are currently holding steady. His heart rate is slightly elevated from fear, adrenaline and physical exertion, but they are within healthy limits. He has received no injuries aside from light bruising._ ”

Harley let out a small breath of relief, laying back down and curling into a ball once more. “Thank you,” he said softly.

* * *

 

Peter was alone.

The mean man had pushed Peter into a closet in a big building and left him all by himself, with a tie tied over Peter's mouth to muffle his yells, and around his thin wrists so he couldn't take the gag off. The closet was dark, and Peter hated the dark, and this time there was no Harley to hug, to keep him safe from the monsters that hid in the shadows. No Tony to run to if he got really scared.

“Daddy,” Peter whispered, or at least, he thought he was whispering. He couldn't hear himself, no matter how badly he wished he could. “Help me.”

* * *

 

“ _Time to hit the button!”_

“ _You told me not to!”_

“ _Just do it!”_

“ _You'll die!”_

“ _ **Push it!”**_

* * *

 

“ _TONY!”_

* * *

 

At first Peter thought the shaking was an earthquake. Tony had told him about those. If there were any in New York, Peter never noticed them, but Tony said there were a lot in California.

He realized it wasn't an earthquake when he saw a flickering orange light through the crack underneath the closet door, and smelled the heavy smoke in the air.

Something exploded, and the building was on fire, and Peter was trapped in a closet.

Was he going to die?

Peter started crying, and scrambled clumsily to his feet to start kicking at the door, since he couldn't use his hands. “Help!” he said, hoping he was yelling as loud as he could, and not whispering. “Please! Daddy! _Help!_ ”

* * *

 

Pepper carefully picked her way out of the destroyed building, stepping over the broken glass all over the ground (not an easy feat in stilettos) and turning back once she was in the parking lot to look up at the carnage.

The entire building was effectively unusable. The outer structure was still more or less in tact, but the roof was certainly completely blown out, as were the doors, and almost everything inside. She hadn't heard a word from Tony since he told her to push the button.

Not long after she got herself out, Agent Coulson came out, holding the hand of someone very small and familiar.

“Oh my god,” Pepper gasped, running to meet him and kneeling down in front of the little boy he was with. “ _Peter_. Are you ok, honey?” Peter looked at her with wide, frightened eyes, letting go of Coulson's hand when Pepper cupped his face in both of hers.

“He's fine,” Coulson reported. “I found him in a supply closet, his hands were tied and they put a gag on him, but it wasn't tight, so I could just barely hear him when I passed. I couldn't get a response out of him, though, he might be in shock-”

“He's deaf,” Pepper explained breathlessly, holding her arms out for him. Snapping out of whatever daze he might have been in, Peter let out a mighty wail and threw his arms around her neck.

“Who is he?” Coulson asked, because so far almost nobody was aware that Tony had adopted the boys.

“One of Tony's sons,” Pepper explained, rocking gently, doing her best to soothe Peter, somewhat unsuccessfully. “He adopted them when he came home from Afghanistan, he's known them their whole lives.”

“I had no idea,” Coulson said, visible shocked. He looked back toward the wrecked building. “I'm going back in, to look for Stark.”

“Please find him,” Pepper begged.

“I'll do what I can,” Coulson promised, before running back into the building, pulling his radio out as he went, probably to contact the rest of his agents. Pepper hated waiting, but Peter needed someone right now. Really, he needed Tony, but Pepper was there, now, so she would stay with him as long as she needed to.

* * *

 

JARVIS hadn't updated Harley in a while. He was starting to get really worried.

“JARVIS?” Harley asked, trying not to cry before bad news had even been delivered. “Tony...?”

JARVIS seemed reluctant to answer, but he said, “ _Tony has a broken nose, several superficial cuts on his face, an abundance of bruises, and he was unconscious for four minutes and thirty-five seconds._ ”

“Was?” Harley squeaked fearfully.

“ _He is awake,_ now,” JARVIS assured him. “ _The suit is rapidly losing power, so I am afraid I may not be able to provide you with anymore updates._ ”

“What? No!” Harley protested.

“ _I'm sorry, Harley, I cannot get any readings when the suit runs out of power_ ,” JARVIS apologized. “ _I can assure you, though, that Tony is fine, and the fight he was in is over, now, so there is little to no chance for further injury._ ”

“Ok,” Harley mumbled, hugging the pillow to himself once more and burying his face in it.

* * *

 

Coulson found Tony on the roof not long after he managed to claw his way out of his busted suit, swearing colorfully and wincing at every other movement. He wasn't seriously injured, but he was bruised enough all over that moving _really hurt_.

“Mr. Stark,” Coulson said, helping Tony to his feet. “Your assistant is in the parking lot with your son. They're both rattled, but fine.”

He answered Tony's most pressing question before it was even asked, and Tony felt all the fear rush out of his body at once. “They're ok? Peter's ok?”

“They're fine,” Coulson repeated. Tony pushed past him and stumbled to the stairs, taking them two at a time until he reached the ground floor, running unsteadily for the entrance and into the parking lot. He spotted Pepper standing there holding Peter tightly in her arms, and made a beeline for them. Peter was sobbing into Pepper's shoulder so heavily that it seemed to physically hurt Tony to listen to.

“Pepper,” he said, relieved.

“Tony,” she replied, somehow looking even more relieved than he felt. “Peter-”

“Is he ok?” Tony interrupted, half-reaching for the little boy.

“Scared,” Pepper replied, leaning back to let Tony take her place comforting Peter. “Upset. What the hell is he doing here?”

“Obadiah,” Tony muttered, kneeling down and tugging Peter closer.

Peter made noises of protest until he turned and saw who was there. His eyes widened, and he let out a soft whine of “ _Daddy,_ ” his eyes filling with a fresh wave of tears.

“Hey,” Tony crooned, cupping Peter's cheek with one hand, speaking deliberately so Peter could read his lips. “Hi, baby, are you ok?”

Peter sniffled loudly, but he nodded, reaching up to latch onto Tony's wrist like a lifeline. “Daddy,” he repeated. He gingerly touched Tony's arc reactor, which peeked through the hole Obadiah's device had cut in his shirt. “Ok?”

“I'm ok,” Tony assured him. Peter didn't look convinced, so he added, “Promise.” He held his arms out properly, and Peter practically collapsed into them, dissolving into a fit of tears. Tony couldn't tell if they were out of relief or leftover fear, or just the result of such an intense experience, but he held Peter through them, standing up and lifting him off the ground. Peter clung to him in a manner reminiscent of a distraught koala, his legs wrapping around Tony's waist, his arms around Tony's neck.

“I'm glad you're ok,” Pepper said after a moment. “That- I thought that was going to-”

“I know,” Tony said softly. “You, too.”

They stood in silence for a while, save for Peter's sobbing, and then Pepper added, “You should go home. Go home, with Peter, shower, rest. Be with your boys.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, nodding slightly. “But, uh... I'll need a ride.”

* * *

 

Coulson drove everyone home. He dropped Pepper off first, since her apartment was closer, and then he took Tony and Peter home. Peter whined and protested when Tony tried to get him to sit in his own seat, in between Pepper and Tony in the back of Coulson's car, so Tony allowed Peter to remain sitting in his lap, despite Coulson's complaints that it wasn't a safe method of travel.

“We'll organize a press conference,” Coulson said, before Tony could get out of the car. “We'll take care of your alibi. No one will ever know you were in the suit.”

“Right,” Tony muttered. “Thanks for the ride.”  
  
“Sure.”

Tony got out of the car, no longer carrying Peter, but allowing the little boy to hold tightly to his hand. They walked into the house together, and JARVIS greeted them upon entry.

“ _Welcome home, sir._ ”

“Thanks, JARVIS,” Tony said tiredly. “Harley?”

“ _In your room, sir. He has been there since you left._ ”

Tony squeezed Peter's hand gently and led him through the house to his room. When he opened the door, Harley was there, curled up on the bed. He appeared to be asleep.

“ _He fell asleep twenty minutes ago,_ ” JARVIS explained quietly. “ _He was rather anxious all night._ ”

Tony helped Peter climb up onto the bed, not caring that his feet were filthy from walking around outside barefoot. He climbed up as well, leaning over to the middle of the bed and gently shaking Harley's shoulder to wake him up.

Harley clearly hadn't been anywhere near sound asleep, because he woke up almost the second Tony touched him, scrambling to sit up as soon as he realized who was there. “ _Dad!_ ” he yelled, practically jumping on Tony to hug him. It sort of felt like a stranglehold, but more affectionate.

“Hey, bud,” Tony said softly, returning the hug. After a moment, he felt hot tears on his neck, and his arms tightened around Harley. “I told you everything would be ok, didn't I?”

“Yeah,” Harley sniffled. “I asked JARVIS to tell me what was happening. He read me your vitals a lot, 'cause he said you were in a suit that kept track of 'em.”

“Did it help?” Tony asked.

“Kinda,” Harley said. “But then he said the suit lost power, so he couldn't anymore, and I got scared. Even though he said you were done fighting.” He snuggled a little closer into Tony's neck. “But you're back now, so I feel better.”

“I'm sorry you were scared,” Tony said, cradling the back of Harley's head.

“Peter was probably scareder,” Harley mumbled. “M'okay.”

“It's not a contest to see who was more scared,” Tony reminded him gently. “Both of you were scared, I was too, but we're all back here now, and we're safe, and we're going to stay that way. Ok?”

“Ok,” Harley whispered. He pulled back for a second, and reached out to Peter with one arm, inviting him to join the hug. Peter did so willingly, and almost immediately, with a fresh onslaught of tears to contribute. Tony held his boys close, scooting around to lean back against the headboard and closing his eyes, feeling himself finally start to relax after what felt like the longest night of his life.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to leave you guys hanging for long, come on, I hate cliffhangers with every fiber of my being. It turned out ok, didn't it?

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr and Instagram @riseuplikeglitterandgold I love talking to people, so don't be shy!


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